


Mine.

by ShatteredFeathers



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Blasphemy, Multi, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Ritual Sex, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 06:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14587230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredFeathers/pseuds/ShatteredFeathers
Summary: A Sister is officially brought into the Church.





	Mine.

     I inhale the incense smoke, letting it out in a long, slow trembling breath. Sweat gathered and dried beneath the folds of the fabric across my eyes. I resisted the urge to scratch. I couldn't ruin this moment years in the making. My final vows.

     No one would tell me what the Ritual involved. The other Sisters just smiled encouragingly, a dark look in their eyes. Last evening, they slipped me a bundle wrapped tightly in black ribbon. Silky black robes, a simple scarf for my hair, thin stockings. Put this on, they said, nothing else. I was bathed in flowers and milk, shaved smooth from the neck down, slathered in oil that smelled like cinders and musk. Drink this, they said, pressing a tea cup into my shivering hands. I drank, and within a few minutes darkness took me.

  
     I woke up here, hands bound behind my back. I can feel the beads of the rosary leaving indentations into my wrists. The blindfold is thick enough that I can't see the flickering candles around me, but I can feel their heat licking at my skin. There is no music, which seems unusual for a Ritual. No organ, no piano, no choir. I shiver again in the silence.  
     Finally, footsteps. A gloved hand lifts my chin, pressing firmly against the sides of my jaw until my lips pry apart.  
    “Sister.” A low voice, a thick accent. Papa. “Are you prepared to take your final vows and dedicate yourself to us? To our Father in Hell?” He leans down, breath hot against my ear. “To me?”  
     I can't help but moan. “Y-yes, Papa. I'm ready.”  
     He slaps me, hard. I taste blood. “Manners, Sister.”  
     “Yes, Papa. Thank you. Please.”

  
     The blindfold falls away. I'm in the Sanctuary, facing rows of empty pews. The Altar is behind me. If I leaned back, my shoulders would be pressed into the stone edge. Papa is standing before me, over me, leering. A few steps behind me, the Cardinal shuffles nervously. He's new at this, too, I can tell. He catches my eye and smiles broadly, showing too many teeth. I swallow hard.  
Papa grabs my jaw again. “Who are you most loyal to?”  
     “Our Father.” I gasp. Another slap, enough to knock me off balance.  
     “Try again. What have you learned?”  
     I lick the blood from my lips, thinking. “Myself.”  
     Papa pats my head softly with his free hand. “Good girl.”  
     My mouth goes dry.  
     “And you must follow your truth. Is this your truth?”  
     I nod, slowly. “Yes. This is my truth.” A beat. “You are my truth.”  
     Papa smirks from above me. “Cardinal.”  
    “Yes, Papa?” The Cardinal leaps forward, a spring released from its coil.  
    “On the Altar. Now.”  
     The Cardinal scoops me into his arms, and I relax briefly against his solid form. He's warm and comforting and some of my fear melts away. He presses a soft kiss to the back of my neck as he sets me down, and gives the rosary around my wrist a sharp tug. Beads scatter noisily across the floor. I shiver against the cold wood. Goosebumps run up my spine. Copia kisses me again, soft, gentle, needy.

     Papa smacks my ass and I yelp. “Enough,” he says. “On your knees.”  
     My face warms as I adjust, ass in the air towards Papa, and Copia's sweet smile meeting my embarrassed gaze. He runs a gloved hand against my cheek. I lean into it, nuzzling. “Open up, Sister.”  
The heat in my belly and the glow in my chest distracts me only briefly before I'm brought back to Earth. Papa rubs the head of his thick cock against my wet slit. As he slides smoothly into me, I moan. Copia takes the opportunity to slip two fingers into my mouth. I suckle at the leather, rubbing my tongue along the seams. I can hear him unzipping his pants with his other hand. Papa is thrusting long and slow behind me, pulling my hair firmly to keep my head in place.  
     Copia removes his fingers and presses the head of his cock in to replace them. I hum softly and he gasps.  
     Papa thrusts hard, forcing Copia down my throat. I gag, thick globs of drool hitting the altar. “Ours.” Papa grunts.  
     I hum an agreement and flick my tongue against the underside of Copia's cock.  
     “Mine.” He whispers, awed.  
     I suck harder, holding his gaze. Even Papa finishing, rutting against me and filling my cunt fades into the background. Carefully, I wrap my fingers around Copia's gloved ones. His eyes widen and that's enough. His hips buck and he lets out the softest moan, emptying down my throat. I swallow and smile up at him. Mine.


End file.
